


The Waiting Game

by SirGnometheGiant



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, i’m sure i’m missing some, man i suck at tags, this probably sucks but what can you do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23149837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirGnometheGiant/pseuds/SirGnometheGiant
Summary: In most universes, Bruce is too late to save Jason. In this one, he still is, but someone else was right on time.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	The Waiting Game

Time passed in a haze, periodically broken by blinding pain and shrill laughter. All he could smell was blood, vomit, and cigarette smoke - the only sign that someone else was there. A silent spectator to the hell he was going through.

Jason closed his eyes as he heard footsteps heading back in his direction.

”Let’s see if we can get our little birdy singing again for round three, hmm?”

————

Where was Bruce? Jason knew he had to be coming, had to have noticed he was missing. Right? Batman knows everything.

Jason could barely feel the pain anymore. Distantly, he could feel his body breaking - could hear the Joker mocking him, laughing at him. He felt removed from what was happening to his body. A third party observer to the torture being forced upon him.

How long had it been? It felt like years.

Where was Bruce?

_Where was his dad?_

_————_

When the wall of the warehouse exploded, Jason knew his dad was there to save him. He didn’t register the Joker’s surprise and confusion. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the fact that he could hear his dad beating the shit out of the clown - even if he couldn’t see it.

It took longer than it should have to notice the silence. No more laughter, no more fighting; only the sounds of his own rattling gasps. He could taste the blood in his throat and the dirt in his mouth, sharper in contrast to the lack of sound.

Hope jumped in chest as he heard heavy footsteps head in his direction, only to fade into confusion as they passed him by. _No, no, no. Don’t leave me, dad, please!_ Jason tried to call out but could only manage a hoarse wheeze that had tears pooling in his eyes. 

Sheila’s panicked cries shook him out of his daze. Unable to move his head for a better view, Jason could only watch as a pair of boots passed while whoever was wearing them dragged his birth mom behind them by her ankle. She clawed at the ground, twisting in an unsuccessful attempt at escape.

They disappeared out of view, into the desert.

Not Bruce.

As the darkness started to creep into his vision again, the last thing Jason saw were the boots of his savior and a wave of red.

————

_Dad, where are you?_

**Author's Note:**

> So like I said in the tags, this is probably trash. I have a larger, multi-chapter daydream in my head but we’ll see if it ever makes it out.
> 
> Let me know if I missed any tags or glaring errors! Be kind, please! Oh, and don’t forget to wash your hands!


End file.
